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Rat Dog was always picky about her kibble.  My coworker calls it "The discerning tongue". She'd pick out only the pieces she liked and left the rest. She'd go nuts if you didn't refill her bowl and tried to get her to eat the other pieces. Could never give her much on the way it wet food, it gave her the runs. But on occasion i'd get her a small can, and usually she got a couple bites of my dinner. If you didn't share she'd grab something off your plate anyway. :)

So she always made this huge mess when she ate. Like there'd be kibble everywhere. The last time she ate from her dish, she'd drug her bowl all over the dining room tossing kibble out.  I finally worked up the nerve to clean up the mess today. It was a better day than yesterday, didn't spend all day crying this time.

I got a small memorial stone and put it next to her dish. I figure in a couple weekends we'll put it outside and Kiddo and I will go pick out some nice flowers to plant around it. Or perhaps a tree, or maybe both.
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Evie123, I know what you mean - we're so used to buying toys, or treats, for our babies it doesn't seem right that we just have to walk on by them and it's painful just seeing them.

shinjaejun, the memorial stone sounds and flowers or treel! Such a beautiful idea and tribute to beautiful little Zoey! Bailey was discerning about his food as well. At first my husband couldn't believe he could actually sort through. They are so smart - and cute, aren't they?
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Yesterday I weirdly absent of tears to cry.
Then today made it hard to hold it together. The coworker who has the cube on the other side of the divider from mine said their dog was very sick and he would probably have to have his fur kid put to sleep this weekend. Thank goodness our office manager stocked me up with tissues, I was even more sad thinking of my poor coworker about to go through the same ordeal the rest of us here are. So so sad.

I managed to gather up some unopened dog food i have. I thought about taking it to the SPCA but I wasn't sure if that would be good for my mental health. I'd either go there and cry my eyes out or come home with all the dogs because I love animals so much. So I called my mom who volunteers at a food bank to ask if they accepted pet food. And she said yes many of the families that came there, also needed food for their pets. So I think thats what i'm going to do with it. Makes me feel better that it will still be going to a dog in need.

I was down in my basement and reminded of a Zoey story. Field mice are common here, everybody gets at least one in the house once in awhile. When my ex and I were together, but before we moved in together we had gone away for a weekend. A friend had offered to come over and let Zoey out and feed her, but there was a mouse in Ex's house. The darned thing had been driving Zoey nuts as it had eluded her thus far. Apparently over the weekend said mouse decided to chill out under thee fridge. His fridge had a plastic grate at the bottom part of the front, when we returned it was out and Rat Dog had pulled the wiring the cover was hiding out of the fridge, ruining a whole load of food. She was probably lucky she didn't get electrocuted, and that was one mouse that she never caught.

Some years later after she became my dog, i had a mouse. She could hear it between the floorboards and was going nuts trying to dig through my floor. Eventually I'd had enough and decided to buy mousetraps. A friend told me t bait the traps with peanut butter. So I did, and tried to set them up in places I thought the mice might be going. Unfortunately i sorely underestimated Zoey's love of peanut butter. Even though I thought the traps were in spots she couldn't get, not five minutes after setting them out i heard a snap and a yelp and my dog comes running up from the basement. The only animal i ever caught with those traps was the dog, and that was the first and last time she messed with a mousetrap.
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Last night was the first night my daughter has spent here since Zoey passed. She'd spent the week at her dads. It was a tough evening because she said the house was "too quiet." which I totally get. Then as the evening progressed she kept telling me Zoey was on the couch, or running by on the floor.  I've sworn I'd seen or heard her a few times this week myself.

She was very concerned that a ghost dog was now going to be haunting her bedroom, and it took a very very long time to convince her to go to bed. She ended up sleeping with every light on the second floor on.

I gave her a few options of why she might see Zoey depending on what she chooses to believe. We're not particularly religious, but i'd like to think all dogs go to heaven, and that if she is here she can see we're OK and move on to go play with the other dogs i've had in my lifetime. But Kiddo is sure we have Ghost Zoey running all over the house.

Sure enough, when i went up to bed at 2 am.. a few minutes later there was the sound of her running up the stairs!
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